Volume One of our series, Cheating Death for a Photograph, emphasized the critical importance of listening to your inner voice. In this episode, photographers Isak Pretorius, Arthur Morris, and Jeff Cable recount photographic encounters where a single misstep could—or nearly did—have catastrophic consequences. From traversing sticky lava rock over a volcanic chasm to clamoring up slippery slopes above a picturesque waterfall in pursuit of the perfect image, maintaining balance is paramount.
Above photograph © Izak Pretorius
Isak Pretorius: Escape from a Kalahari Lion
The author, with his name painted in light, appears ghost-like in front of his tent, under a starry sky in the Kalahari Desert. Camera: Canon EOS-1D Mark III; EF 16-35mm f-2.8L II USM lens. Shot in manual priority at f/5.6; 68 seconds
Several years ago, I went on a two-week mission to photograph lions in Southern Africa’s Kalahari Desert. In the remote part of the Kalahari I visited, the Botswana National Parks caters to guests with a stunning campsite: a patch of sand under a tree that is completely exposed to nature and the elements. Perfect!
The tough desert conditions have made Kalahari lions evolve into stronger, tougher, and bigger animals than other lion species. Most important, the males exhibit beautiful black manes, perhaps their most famous trait. The first week of photography went well, although I had not yet seen many lions, and no males whatsoever. Since this was a photographic commission requiring lion images, I needed to find them. So I decided to base myself in another part of the Kalahari for my second week. The next morning, I took down my camp following a normal routine, packing up the tent, mattress, gas stove, and chairs, and lined them up neatly, ready to load everything into my vehicle.
While rolling up the tent, I noticed two lionesses lying in the road about 250' (80m) away, intensely watching my every move. They were motionless, in a pouncing posture, as if I was their intended prey. As I stood there, literally frozen, with my eyes glued to theirs, I knew they could sprint the distance between us in a few seconds. This was the fright of my life, and I suddenly felt extremely vulnerable although, luckily, I was not too far from my vehicle. After a few very tense moments, I realized that I could only opt for the safety this would provide. I only hoped that I could get there in time to avoid being attacked. As I sprinted towards my vehicle and jumped in, I looked back toward the lions, watching as they casually stood up and sauntered towards my camping gear. One lioness seemed to find an interest in my mattress. After sniffing around, she picked it up in her mouth and started dragging it away.
While I was incredibly thankful to reach safety without being attacked, I knew how hard the Kalahari sand would be to sleep on. Figuring that I would need that mattress for the next week, I decided to try and make the lioness drop it. My only option was to drive carefully toward her, hoping that she would drop the mattress and move along. I started my car and moved forward, even waving my arms out the window, but I got no reaction. Then, as I drove toward her again, stopping just a few meters away, she dropped the mattress and stared at me for a second. Picking it up again, she got into a playful mood, thinking that we're playing the “who-can-get-the-mattress” game. I tried approaching again, waving my arms, but she had the same reaction and was clearly winning at our game. She continued walking away from the campsite, into the bushes with the mattress in her mouth, but I kept following with my vehicle. Eventually the bush became so thick that all I could do was stop and watch her disappear into the distance.
I never saw her, or my mattress, again. For the next few nights I lay on the Kalahari sand, which gets especially hard at 3:00 a.m. when you've run out of comfortable sleeping positions, all while thinking about the lioness and my mattress. If only she used the mattress to lay on herself, I kept thinking, at least my loss would be another’s gain.
Arhur Morris: At Death’s Door?
For the most part, Galapagos photo cruises are not dangerous undertakings. The seas are never Drake Passage threatening, and the panga (Zodiac) landings are pretty much a snap. When far from top-notch medical facilities, it always pays to be careful on the hikes, especially when traversing lava rock. One fall might not only ruin your trip of a lifetime, but might put a damper on the trip for everyone else should you need to be evacuated.
Speaking of lava rock, Punta Moreno, Isabela, is—geologically speaking—the archipelago’s youngest volcanic island. At only 1,000 years old, the lava is sharp-edged with lots of loose, rubbly plates. There are also many fairly deep rifts. My Instructional Photo-Tour (IPT) group crosses several such chasms on our way to the flamingo ponds. Hiking boots are recommended, and one must take great care with every step.
When exiting the panga at Punta Morena, my world-class guide, Juan, does a special safety briefing. “Watch your step. There is a lot of loose, corrugated lava that is very grabby, so be careful when you raise your foot to stride; the lava can grab the toe of your boot or sneaker and send you tumbling.”
When we arrived at the largest pond, there were several flamingos resting on the far shore and some frigate birds dipping down to grab a drink. Although I usually detest side lighting, I thought it might be advantageous in this situation, as the already dark background was completely shaded. To keep my load light, I was only carrying my Canon 7D Mark II, the 100-400mm L IS II lens, and, as always, an EF 1.4 X III extender in my fanny pack.
But I needed to get closer. I cautiously crossed a very deep crevice, making it to a large rock that was close enough for a vertical shot to incorporate the birds’ gorgeous pink reflections. I created a series of about 70 images, making sure there was at least one really good capture in the lot. Most of my IPT group was above me, safely on the other side of the fissure.
As I started to cross back, the toe of my right boot caught on the sticky lava. I pitched forward toward the chasm with my life flashing before me. It’s amazing how many thoughts can cross your mind in an instant. I knew I was going to do a face plant into the tube with its razor sharp sides. I realized that even though the trip had just begun, I had likely taken my last image.
At best I would wreck my beloved 100-400 II. My face and forearms would be sliced to ribbons. One or more fractures were likely, perhaps a wrist bone or two, or a clean break of the radius and ulna. A fractured skull and a concussion were not out of the question. At worst, I might die and ruin the trip for everyone, as it would take a day or two to cart my body back to Puerto Ayora for shipment back to Florida.
And then, amazingly, I regained my balance and somehow jumped across the abyss, landing safely below the group without even falling. My lens and camera were safe and so was I.
Jeff Cable: Hanging Upside Down Over a Waterfall
Last July, I was in the Poconos to shoot the NASCAR race and teach photography. I went early to scout teaching locations. I had heard about some nice waterfalls in the area, so I went hiking alone and was in the process of getting some waterfall shots. It had rained the night before and everything was pretty wet. After making a few images, I climbed to the top of a much taller waterfall and scrambled down to a medium-sized rock to investigate the view looking down over the falls. At that moment, my feet slipped on the wet rock and I went down backward. Luckily, I grabbed a nearby tree branch. There I was, upside down and alone. My Gitzo tripod was in my other hand, so I threw it back up on the plateau, and then I managed to pull myself around and up. My Canon 1DX and 24-105mm lens banged hard on the rock, but came out unscathed. I also credit my Thinktank backpack for possibly saving me. The backpack cushioned my fall and probably kept me from cracking my head on the rock below. If I had gotten knocked out, I could have been a dead man—with nobody knowing where to look for me. Phew!!!
Do you have a story (or image) to share about cheating death for a photograph? If so, please add your voice to the Comments section, below.
To learn more about the photographers who contributed to this article, click on their names.
Izak Pretorius
Arthur Morris
Jeff Cable
In case you missed them, click to read the companion articles in this series, Cheating Death for a Photograph: Volume One, and Cheating Death for a Photograph: Volume Three.
